Whiskey Lullaby
by Sirius Lover for Life
Summary: Two people discover what is worth living for- or dying for. Will x Elisabeth song-fic to 'Whiskey Lullaby.'rn'He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger...' [fin]


Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

* * *

**_La la la la la la la_**

No matter who you are, where you come from, or how dreary you choose to believe your life is, you have a story._ Everyone_ has a story.

Not every story is a pretty one. In fact, most aren't. They tell of how you wathced your world crumble right before you, and stood there, unblinking, until the ashes came.

...If they're anything like _my_ story.

But in each one, something lies in the center, a core that holds it together.

It kills me every time I think about it. The hurt digs deeper and deeper, and each time it sinks in as far as it can go, it is all I can do to fall to my knees and break down.

But however much it hurts to tell it, tell it I must.

_For what longs to be accepted first must be admitted._

**_La la la la la la la..._**

From the time she was little and first laid eyes on him to the time they finally came to be together, she loved him. And he loved her.

_Like neither had done before._

It took sacrifice upon sacrifice to at last bring them together. They were in love, and my daughter was truly happy, for the first time in her life.

The day of their wedding was the most joyous event I can remember. It marked the new beginning of two people who were together, at last.

_He was her one and only._

**_She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette_**

_She wanted to believe she still loved him. She really did. It was just that her mind kept wandering to the realms of "what could have been." If Norrington had been hers instead - would HE get drunk more often than anyone in the town? Would he ignore her when he had 'work' on his mind? The fact of the matter was, no matter how many nights she spent lying awake, silent tears streaming down her face, she DID love him. She just wasn't sure he loved her back, the way he used to. But then she realised-_

_Maybe he never did._

The first few months were seemingly the best of their young lives, the days spent walking around town arm in arm with broad smiles on their faces, the nights spent dancing at the local tavern. They were common guests there, and grew to be quite popular for spreading their cheer to all whom they encountered.

Occasionally, they would dance far-off in a corner of the room, to avoid attention. The folks would worry and cry,  
"Where are Will and Elisabeth?" Then they would be spotted by another, and smiling, he'd say,  
_"There they are- dancing in each other's arms."_

**_She broke his heart_**

It happened four years after their marriage, years and years after they stopped dancing. I suppose he suspected she was getting restless. How could he not, with her running off in the dead of night, close to three times a week?

He faked ignorance and tried to deny it. When he did catch her once, she told him she was simply going dancing, for old time's sake.

After this becoming routine for close to a month, he decided to follow her out one night.

_Stealthily and silently, he crept along, yards behind, reassuring himself he was being foolish and there was nothing to worry about, but all the time, fearing the worst. _

And the worst was yet to come.

**_He spent his whole life trying to forget_**

_She was there. The door opened, and a tall, pale man pulled her inside in a passionate embrace. Knees weakening, the forgotten man outside tried to keep his balance, and keep his tears as well. Fighting back the urge to break in there and do what felt right- **kill**, he gradually slid down the side of the house, feeling the cold, jagged stone penetrate his numb back. Craving more blood, he weakly let his neck and head slither down the stone. It pierced his flesh, and this was what felt right. _

He stopped trying.

**_We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time  
_**  
_That was the day he snapped. He let go. Fears confirmed, his only consolation was the whiskey bottle, an old friend that he only occassionally relied on in the past.  
_  
I remember that day. That very morning my daughter ran outside the Commador's to find him there, sprawled out on the gravel. The folks at the tavern, who missed their old guests, talked, along with the rest of the village.

_"Check for a pulse..."  
"Call in the doctor!"  
"...He's breathing. But only just."_

**_But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind_**

My dear Elisabeth knew she had done wrong. Of course, he had desire no more to live with her; therefore she came back to me. I cared for her as I had done in the past, during her years of childhood, when she had been defenseless and foolish.

_And she had now returned to that state very much so.  
_  
She talked about him. Day and night. Him being Will, of course. From what little news I caught, he had abandoned his work, and was found time and time again scrounging around the village for any bit of alcohol he could get. His self-respect, obviously, was now beyond repair.

"I knew that Will Turner was no good..."

**_Until the night_**

_She never loved him. That was his one recent belief, and it was what he based his days on. _

'Scoundrel...you're no good!' He told himself over and over. There was no use blaming it on her. He should have let it go, forgotten about her the day after their first meeting. Then he would be spared this- this desperate, sorry state of living. His hair was wild, his body and heart scarred. His house, HIS- not theirs, was a wreck. She wasn't there to keep it clean, she wasn't there to keep **him** clean- what was the use?

**_He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger _**

_**And finally drank away her memory  
**  
Days, weeks, months, **years**?- time, as some call it, had now all become but a blur to him. _

He was going insane. Slowly, but surely, he was burning himself further into worthless ash. The whiskey was all that kept him going. His friend- his comfort, his LIFE, had never let him down before. So now, he needed it more than ever. He needed to put a stop to it, once and for all.

**_Life is short, but this time it was bigger _**

Than the strength he had to get up off his knees

_The parting gift from Jack Sparrow now became his new, and final comfort. A pistol left with a single shot. He would make sure this one would not go wasted. Taking a final swig of the whiskey that had become his life, he dropped the bottle; it fell to the floor. He slid his new console over the tip of his head, running down his neck, letting it tangle his mangy hair. The soft, gentle fingers that had once run through it were replaced now by his new solace. _

And it felt so right.

He didn't need her. He had his new confidants, they were now his life. With a twisted grin and a final breath, he murmured,

"Life, don't fail me now." His final breath spoken on earth was immediately followed by a resounding shot. It echoed through the walls, the air, the heavens, and beyond. A final collapse on the floor, and then there was silence.

**_We found him with his face down in the pillow _**

With a note that said I'll love her till I die

How long the corpse remained there, I know not. All I remember is receiving the news...and breaking it to Elisabeth. The reaction was far beyond what I had expected.

"No. No. _NO_! YOU IGNORANT, DECEITFUL, WICKED MAN!"  
Clearly, she would not be spoken to. Nor would she accept the truth. However, I knew that one of these days- she would have to come to terms with it.

_She knew this as well, although her stubborn side shined through, spotted with denial and isolation._

**_And when we buried him beneath the willow _**

**_The angels sang a whiskey lullaby_**

_The sky bled crimson that day, spilling its endless scarlet ink across the mourning evening sky. _

People below attended the sepulture, shedding a polite tear. Truth be told, they had never really come to accept him as trustworthy, and for most the death of William Turner was nothing more than the final release of an unwanted soul.

But, in another's eyes, he **was** wanted.

**_La la la la la la la _**

As they lowered him into the ground, the solemn croud weeping subtle tears, I watched my daughter instead of the scene unfolding before me.

_**La la la la la la la...**_

_The world around her became a blur. All she saw was what was the man once in her life, the only one she cared about, now hidden within the shallow confines of a long black box, about to be buried, forgotten, once and for all. But she couldn't forget...there was a reason she was here, at this cemetary. A reason the villagers were lingering about, impatiently; a reason a wave of grief had washed over the town that was once cheered by the mere presence of the two. But they were now torn, unfixable._

_**La la la la la la la**_

As the weary red sky escorted us away from the freshly dug spot below the willow tree, an arm reached out, catching my daughter in her path. She stared up at the disheartened pale face of Norrington.

"They found him...with this...thought you should know."

Trembling hands held up the freshly inked parchment.

_"Once I am delivered, I pray I find you well, my love."_

_**La la la la la la la...**_

_**The rumors flew**_

_**But nobody knew how much she blamed herself**_

Nothing was the same after that moment in time. Try as she might, she never could get over what had occured. Attempts at offering my hand for comfort went rejected, and despite my demands she remain sheltered at home, she moved back to her- _their_ old house. Realising I couldn't control her any longer was defeating, as any parent experiencing their child growing up knows very well.

_She was no longer a child._

_**For years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath**_

_"Back at square one," she told herself, as she tried to sit straight on the bed that was once occupied by two._

_"Not anymore- never again. And all because of you." _

**_She finally drank her pain away a little at a time_**

_**But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind**_

_He used to drink- why shouldn't she? Submitting herself to the same torture, was in her mind the only fair way to go on living. Living- she stared in the mirror and asked her somber reflection-_

_"Is it **worth** it?"_

_There was no reply._

_**Until the night**_

_**She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger**_

_**And finally drank away his memory**_

_They talked more and more now. This whole thing was spinning out of control; it was unproportional; **absurd. **Will had always held their suspicions, true, but **Elisabeth? **The people of the town had liked to believe that, if anyone, the governor's daughter, would have the sense to remain sober. But they didn't know the half of it. They didn't know that she was slowly succumbing to the alluring intoxication of the bottle. They didn't know that, on this very night, her intentions had gone beyond the shelter of her four walls, beyond the stone prison known as her town, beyond everything known to man. _

_She had let him down once; she would not let it happen again._

_NEVER again._

_**Life is short, but this time it was bigger **_

Than the strength she had to get up off her knees

_Trembling hands driven by psychotic willpower lifted the blade crafted by him. He had given it to her- _

_"Just in case." Self-defense had always been questionable; after what had happened the night of the raid, he had always looked out for her even more. _

_"And look what you led him to!" she was sobbing uncontrollably, letting the cold steel blade graze her tear-stained flesh. This final memory of him, the only remaining piece, would now carry her to her destination, once and for all. Where she was **meant** to be. _

_"With you." The barely audible words were hardly above a whisper. Blade raised to her throat, she screamed the words with a dead-on firmness._

_**"With you!" **Sobs were replaced by a slice, followed by a thud; finished by silence. _

**We found her with her face down in the pillow **

Clinging to his picture for dear life

I...I...I didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. It...it wasn't as though the thought she eventually would bring herself to this had never crossed my mind, I just didn't- _couldn't,_ believe it would happen. At the house...seeing my daughter...in that state...

Why, why, _why_ had she done this to herself? Holding her hand one last time, it lifelessly fell open to reveal a photograph- him and her.

_The reason why.  
_  
**_We laid her next to him beneath the willow _**

While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

_The sky had turned over a hazy violet hue, revealing a murky backdrop for the scene that was re-occuring at the willow in the cemetery. _

_The townspeople were confused now, more than ever, but as the priest read the eulogy, looks of pity, more than sorrow, were cast toward the governor, and as they walked away at its closing, their words were of shallow politeness. _

I remained there hours after the procession had coolly moved its way out and on with their lives. Sitting down at the double grave site, I had no desire to move, and I truly believe that even if I had wanted to, I couldn't.

_**La la la la la la la **_

She always had wanted to be beside him in her last hour. The photograph could not replace him, but it was the best she could do. And the best_ I_ could do for her was to let them be together, after her time had come. She was here now. They were here now, right beneath the willow tree where I sat, and _still _come to sit. _Every day. _I just hoped,_ prayed_, that she would be forgiven.

_**La la la la la la la...**_

Night fell; I remained, listless, nailed to the spot. I needed something, a sign, that would tell me how things were.

_Would such a sign ever reveal itself in a place like this? _

_**La la la la la la **_

_Something about the sky that night was different, something that could not be put merely into words. The black velvety backdrop had speckled itself with countless stars, a milky silver mist washed itself over the land below, causing the live being at the base of the willow to stir, and look upward, at the calling of the voices. Laughing, carefree, they were, and they seemed joyous, as if the weight of the world had at last been lifted from their shoulders. The heavens and earth were laughing along with them, and at that moment, the man beneath started laughing, despite the sadness in his past. Nothing else mattered now, they were together. They had been forgiven of their sins._

_...There they were, dancing in each other's arms._

_**La la la la la la la... **_


End file.
